Chryed Boat
by Mushroom Hair
Summary: Throw me a buoy.


Christian steadied himself against the fruit machine. The sound of lively chatter and clinking of glasses coming from the bar was almost drowned out by the relentless throbbing of the engines.

As he pushed in another coin he sensed hot eyes upon his back. Without turning he grinned to himself and banged a hand on the hold button.

"Everything okay sir? Can I do anything for you?."

From the corner of his eye, Christian quickly appraised the tall young Steward hovering at his elbow. Tall, crew cut blonde hair, jacket hanging sharply from broad square shoulders.

"No I'm fine, thank you. I've decided to hold the plums"

As Christian hit start, the boat lurched alarmingly, causing the man to stumble, clutching on to his arm for balance.

Lights flashed and money began to spew from the machine, clattering out and thudding down onto the carpet.

"Yes!"

Christian looked down at the man's hand, still resting on the sleeve of his shirt. Slowly and seductively he transferred his gaze up into his eyes.

"I've thought of two things you could do for me. The first is to get me something to put all this money in,"

The Steward blushed.

"A pleasure Sir. And the second…?"

Christian ran up the stairs two steps at a time. He heaved against the double doors, fighting against the gale outside, and burst onto the deck.

Battered with salt spray and soaked to the skin, he pulled himself along the handrails as the ship pitched and rolled, shouting into the wind.

"Sy!"

He looked around wildly until he spotted a figure squeezed into a corner. Hunched on a bench, his jacket zipped up to the neck and wet hair whipping around his face, Syed sensed Christian rather than heard him, and raised a weak hand to wave.

As Christian pushed his way through the driving rain he felt a small ache in his heart. It had been a long time since he had seen Syed look so lost and forlorn, he had hoped never to see him like that again.

He slid down beside him.

"What are you doing out here? You'll catch your death."

Syed nodded towards Christian's sodden shirt.

"At least I'm dressed for it."

He stared out across the grey waves and the churning wash that streamed behind the boat.

Christian frowned.

"Please come inside Sy. There's karaoke. I'll sing you a song, a cheesy one." he pleaded.

Syed tried to slick back his soaking hair.

"I'm looking for Mermen." he joked feebly. "I thought I'd found one, but it was just an old tyre."

Christian twisted from the bench and squatted down in front of him, holding his face close to his own. Syed reluctantly met his eyes.

"Syed, you look positively green. You're the one who should be sat on a rock singing your siren song to sailors. Poor babe, are you ill?"

Syed tried to smile.

"I feel so sick Christian. I was seven the last time I did any sailing. We went to the boating lake in the park and my dad hired a pedalo. I threw up all over it. He had to pay the owner extra money to clean it. Mum was mortified at the shame."

He felt Christian's arms wrap tightly around him and buried his head in his shoulder. Christian started to rock him slightly and Syed breathed into his ear.

"Could you not do that. I don't want to puke on you."

"I don't mind, I won't be mortified. I have no shame! Why didn't you tell me boats made you ill?"

Christian gently lifted him to his feet, using his body as a barrier to protect him from the waves that splashed over the handrail.

Syed leant his forehead against Christian's chin.

"You were so looking forward to this holiday, and when the baggage handlers went on strike I couldn't bear you to be disappointed."

Christian pressed a hot salt kiss onto his mouth and murmured.

"Try not to chuck up right now."

He touched Syed's cheek gently.

" You lovely, lovely fool. I'm going to make sure you have the best time ever. And we're definitely flying back, even if we have to go via Azerbaijan. Come on, lets go downstairs and get dry. I'll find you a bucket and hold your hair back."

Syed leant against him, allowing himself to be led back to the doors.

"Below deck, landlubber. That cabin we've got makes me feel worse though, so dark and stuffy."

Christian smiled broadly.

"Ah ha! Well I won loads of money on the fruit machine. And you know the boy that wants me really badly?"

Syed released a small hiss of breath and answered grumpily.

"The one that can sod right off. Yeah, what about him?"

Christian laughed joyously.

"He got us an upgrade. He was gutted when I told him it was for me and my beautiful boyfriend. We've got a suite, a presidential suite. With portholes!"

Syed's eyes brightened.

"Portholes! Get us!"


End file.
